


Dog Only Knows

by burglebezzlement



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Transformation, Dogs, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, The Small Adorable Animal Depot, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burglebezzlement/pseuds/burglebezzlement
Summary: “Trevor did whatever he did, and then… there was this dog sitting there.” Chidi shakes his head. “This is The Good Place! You made giant shrimp fly through the sky! Frankly, you turning into a dog was not the weirdest thing that’s happened since we got here.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [htbthomas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/htbthomas/gifts).



> Guess which fic got made totally canon-divergent in the time between writing and reveals? This fic! *points thumbs*
> 
> More or less canon-consistent up to Ep 1.10, but not past that point. This fic is entirely inconsistent with the canon revealed in Ep 1.13.
> 
> Title is based on the little-known Beach Boys classic, Dog Only Knows (What I’d Be Without You).

Michael’s train is already pulling out of the station when Trevor pops up in the caboose. Chidi grabs Eleanor’s hand, without thinking, like that can protect them, but then there’s a puff of of glittery purple smoke and a sound like the universe turning itself inside out, and Chidi’s hand is empty and there’s a small dog sitting on the ground, next to him.

“Have fun with your trash bag,” Trevor yells.

Chidi panics. The Good Place has prepared him for the unexpected, but this —

“Michael?” Chidi yells, running behind the train, but the moment it took for his brain to realize _something’s wrong_ means the train’s already pulling ahead, much faster than Chidi can run. Carrying Michael along with it. And Janet.

Michael and Janet, who happen to be the only two people Chidi can think of who could fix this particular situation. 

Chidi stares after the train, steaming off to universes unknown, and then turns around to follow the train tracks back into town.

The dog comes trotting up to him.

She’s a small dog, scruffy, with messy blonde fur. Some kind of terrier, maybe. Chidi’s never really known much about dog breeds. She looks up at Chidi and then barks, expectantly, like he’s supposed to know what to do with her or —

“Oh no,” Chidi says. “No, no, no, no, no. This is not happening.”

The dog tilts her head to one side, just a little. 

Just like Eleanor.

* * *

Good Eleanor’s out when Chidi gets to her house, so Chidi tries holding the dog up to look at the clown paintings to see if she reacts. The dog tries to get down from his arms, but he can’t tell if that’s because she really is Eleanor or if it’s because dogs aren’t that interested in art, clown or otherwise.

He’s standing awkwardly in front of Nightmare George Washington, watching maybe-Eleanor-the-dog sniff the couch, when Good Eleanor comes in.

“Why do you have a dog?” she asks. She sounds bemused.

“I, uh….” Chidi swallows. His stomach is clenching into knots. “Funny story.”

“Yes?”

“I think Trevor turned Eleanor into a dog.” Chidi says it all in a rush, and then sits down when Good Eleanor raises her eyebrows. “Oh, wow, that sounds ridiculous. But Trevor was there, and then there was this big whoosh, and all this smoke, and then — dog.” He points to the dog, who is sniffing the steps leading up to Good Eleanor’s bedroom.

“Did you ask Michael?”

“He and Janet were both on the train,” Chidi says. “Three weeks without them. Well, it’s Michael, so he said three days or three months, but it’s usually three weeks. Is it hot in here?”

Good Eleanor leans down and puts her hand out, down at the dog’s level. The dog looks over at her and then runs over to Chidi.

“Well, she makes a cute dog,” Good Eleanor says. “I’m sure we can take care of her until —” She breaks off, and sneezes violently. “Until they get back.”

“Oh no.” Chidi puts his hand down to the dog without thinking. “Are you allergic? You’re allergic to her, aren’t you.”

Good Eleanor smiles at him. “Maybe a little.”

“We’re going,” Chidi says, getting up and picking up the dog so he can carry her. “I still have my apartment. We’ll stay there until Michael gets back and can sort this all out.”

Just three weeks with a dog. Or maybe just three days. Or maybe three months. Easy, right?

* * *

On the walk back to Chidi’s apartment, maybe-dog-Eleanor digs up three flowerbeds and pees on one of the decorated park benches Tahani made to beautify the neighborhood. Chidi would figure it was a slam-dunk indication that Eleanor’s really been turned into a dog, only he’s pretty sure Eleanor hated the bench on the other side of the road more.

At his apartment, Chidi finds a bowl in the cabinet and fills it with water before putting it down. The dog drinks, and then comes over to sit next to Chidi on his leather couch.

If only he could _communicate_ with Eleanor, Chidi thinks. Figure out if she’s really there, in the dog’s tiny body.

“Eleanor?”

She responds by scratching herself vigorously.

“Was that a sign?”

The dog looks up at him.

“If your name is Eleanor, bark once.”

The dog stares back at him and then shakes herself all over before curling up next to him. Her tiny body is warm against his hip. He finds his hand dropping to scratch her head before stopping himself. If this is Eleanor, would she want that? What are the ethical implications of petting a human who’s been turned into a dog?

He’s not going to think about that right now, Chidi decides. Instead, he is going to deal with the situation. He is going to go buy dog food from The Small Adorable Animal Depot.

When he gets back, the dog is chewing on a first edition of _A Theory of Justice_.

“You always did hate Rawls,” Chidi says to Eleanor-the-dog, before going to get her a food bowl out of the cupboard.

* * *

Over the next few days, Eleanor-the-dog manages to chew on several more first editions, escape from Chidi’s apartment to dig up another flower bed, and roll in the mud, leaving a trail of dirt all the way back to Chidi’s apartment and into his bathtub. 

The woman from The Small Adorable Animal Depot is initially delighted by all of Chidi’s visits — for chew toys that Eleanor-the-dog ignores, for dog shampoo, for new dog food after Eleanor-the-dog turns up her nose at the first two kinds he bought. She insists that Chidi bring Eleanor-the-dog in to meet her, but when he does, Eleanor picks a fight with a Schnauzer twice her size and manages to break open a cage of canaries, who flutter up to the ceiling. Chidi tries to help, but then Eleanor chews into a full bag of dog food and gets herself banned from The Small Adorable Animal Depot for all eternity.

Which is completely fair, Chidi reminds himself, once they’re back home and he’s given Eleanor another dog treat. “You’re pretty cute,” he tells her, ruffling her blonde fur. “But I get why you’re not allowed back in.”

Eleanor rubs up against his leg, and he scratches her under her chin. Chidi has stopped worrying about what it means when he pets her. She’s obviously enjoying it, just like she likes running after the tennis ball he throws for her at the park. Or like she enjoyed jumping into Tahani’s fountain and then running in her front door and jumping up on her couches, although Chidi and Eleanor are still living that one down, especially since Eleanor was already dog-non-grata at the Al-Jamil residence thanks to several broken vases and an unfortunate incident with a platter of finger sandwiches. 

It’s still really weird. But when he falls asleep each night, there’s a warm dog curled up beside him in the bed, and Chidi can almost stop worrying.

* * *

Chidi’s outside at Good Place’s Best Yoghurt when the train gets back.

Eleanor’s under the table, snuggled up against his ankles while she eats a dog-friendly froyo. It’s not that Chidi ever wanted to be the kind of person who feeds his dog frozen yoghurt — but, well, it’s Eleanor, and she likes frozen yoghurt, and anyway, if Chidi keeps her busy eating she won’t try to pick a fight with other dogs. Or cats. Or her reflection, like she did that one time.

Chidi reaches down to scratch Eleanor between the ears.

And then Janet appears in front of him, and next to her is — 

“Eleanor?”

Chidi stands up. It’s not possible. Eleanor’s standing in front of him — _his_ Eleanor, human Eleanor, her hair messy and her hoodie stained with mud and grass. 

“But — but you’re —”

Dog-Eleanor is still under the table. 

“What the _fork_ , man.” Eleanor sits down at the table and grabs Chidi’s frozen yoghurt. “Why didn’t you look for me? I was in the middle of the jungle! Alone!” She takes an enormous spoonful of yoghurt and keeps talking through her partially-full mouth. “I had to eat a frog, Chidi. A frog. And it was a _cute_ one.”

“I — what’s going on?”

Janet smiles at them all. “Once I was back, I heard Eleanor’s cry for help.”

“And —” Chidi looks down. The dog is still licking her bowl of froyo. “And the dog?”

“The dog is very cute,” Janet says, smiling down. “I’m going to go see my husband Jason now. Goodbye!”

She winks out. Chidi sits down across from Eleanor, who’s finished Chidi's bowl of froyo already. 

“So… what happened?”

“I could ask you the same thing, man.” Eleanor shakes her head. “I got zapped somewhere out there and couldn’t find my way back. I was trying to follow the coastline, but… it’s, like, rugged out there.” She looks down at the table, and then back up at Chidi, her blue eyes wide. “Why didn’t you look for me?”

“Um, well… funny story about that.” Chidi reaches down and picks the dog up. “I… may have thought the dog was you.”

“What?” Eleanor glares at the dog and then looks back up at Chidi. “It looks nothing like me!”

The dog totally does look like Eleanor, though. They’re staring at one another with exactly the same expression on their faces.

Chidi’s not sure how you tell someone they look like a dog, so he side-steps that. “Trevor did whatever he did, and then… there was this dog sitting there.” Chidi shakes his head. “This is The Good Place! You made giant shrimp fly through the sky! Frankly, you turning into a dog was not the weirdest thing that’s happened since we got here.”

“But I didn’t,” Eleanor says, like that proves something. “I totally didn’t. That dog is not me.”

The dog squirms in Chidi’s arms, and Chidi lets her jump up and lick his face. “I know that now.”

“So you and Good Eleanor have been living together with me as a dog? That’s kind of forked up, right?”

“No!” Chidi shakes his head. “No, Good Eleanor’s allergic to dogs, so we moved back to my old place.”

Eleanor meets Chidi’s eyes. “Really?” 

“I told you I’d be there for you,” Chidi says, looking down. “I wasn’t going to stop just because you were a dog.”

Eleanor looks startled, and then — hopeful, maybe? 

Chidi’s chest makes a weird, flopping feeling. Because this is Eleanor, not-a-dog Eleanor, real, in front of him. And taking care of not-Eleanor-the-dog over the past few days has made him realize a few things about Eleanor. The original Eleanor. This Eleanor.

 _His_ Eleanor.

She makes his life unpredictable. There are no two-egg breakfasts with original Eleanor; you might be running from giant shrimp or dodging a trash storm or arguing a grand high judge of the afterlife, but you won’t be eating the same two eggs for the rest of your afterlife. 

And she’s there been for him. Always. Even when it wasn’t in her own best interest.

“Of course I took you in,” he says.

Eleanor looks down at the froyo, and then gets up and pulls Chidi up with her. The dog jumps off Chidi’s lap as he stands.

“I think I have to kiss you now,” Eleanor says. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“It’s a very good thing,” Chidi says, and he leans in the rest of the way.

Kissing Eleanor isn’t like anything Chidi’s felt before. Not on Earth, anyway, but maybe there’s something about kissing someone in The Good Place that makes you feel like bells are ringing in your mind. Like their lips on yours are the last answer to the Saturday crossword puzzle, falling into place.

Chidi brushes Eleanor’s cheek with his thumb when she pulls away.

“I’m not saying no,” she says. She’s looking into his eyes and it’s intense, in a way Chidi usually doesn’t like. Only right now, it’s all he wants.

“But?”

“But I smell like I just spent a week in the wilderness eating frogs,” she says.

Chidi sniffs, involuntarily. Yeah. He didn’t notice it — so overwhelmed by Eleanor, right there, with him — but she does smell a bit… ripe.

“Okay,” he says. “We’re going home, to my place, and then you can get a bath. And some food that’s not froyo.”

The dog comes trotting back up by his feet and jumps up on his pants. Somehow, she’s managed to find a mud puddle to roll in.

“You can both have a bath,” Chidi says, reaching down to scratch the dog between the ears.

* * *

The next few days are intensely awkward, which Chidi has never been good with, but they’re also good in a way he didn’t expect. 

It isn’t easy, telling Real Eleanor. But Chidi knows, now, just how unfair it would be to be with her when the one he’s in love with the original Eleanor. 

In love with _his_ Eleanor. Who likes dogs, it turns out, although she has no idea how to actually take care of one.

“It’s fine,” Eleanor tells Chidi, a few days later. They’re sitting outside on the grass, eating froyo from another one of The Good Place’s omnipresent froyo shops while the dog wrestles with a rope chew toy. “You can be the responsible dog parent, and I’ll be the cool dog mom, who gives her her first drink and tries to crash her parties.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works with dogs,” Chidi says. Eleanor laughs at him, and he throws his spoon at her.

Michael comes up a few minutes later, after Eleanor’s gotten the dog playing with them.

“Chidi? Why are you playing tug-of-war with a hellhound?”

“What?” Chidi looks down at Eleanor-the-dog. “What are you talking about?”

“That creature,” Michael says. “The one licking your pants. You do realize that is a hellhound?”

Chidi stands up, but Eleanor-the-dog just snuggles up to his ankles. “I, uh….” His mind isn’t processing. “Tahani said she was a Norwich Terrier.”

“Dear me,” Michael says. “What happened?”

“Trevor,” Eleanor says. “Trevor happened.”

They explain everything. Once they’re done, Michael pushes his glasses up his nose.

“And this is the dog Trevor left behind?” 

“She’s been really good, though,” Chidi says, even though the dog totally _hasn’t_. She’s horribly behaved, even for a terrier, but she snuggles up beside Chidi and Eleanor in bed and night, and she snuffles at his hand when he gives her a treat, and she’s almost gotten the whole fetch thing down. Chidi’s not letting go of her. 

“I can take care of that for you,” Michael says.

“No!” Chidi picks the dog up in his arms. “No. She’s my dog now.”

Eleanor nods. “If anyone can teach a hellhound how to be a good dog, it’s Chidi.”

“Alright, then,” Michael says. He looks down at the dog in Chidi’s arms. “You realize this means your dog needs another name now, though.”

Chidi stares at him, blankly. He never did name his last dog, and how will he ever decide? This is exactly the sort of decision he’s always been terrible at.

“Don’t worry,” Eleanor says. She takes Chidi’s hand. “We’ve got this.”


End file.
